Angel's Tears
by A'isha Ishtar
Summary: She'd never imagined her son would turn out to be a mutant. A boy with wings, no less. But that certainly didn't mean she loved him any less.


**Disclaimer: Don't own X-Men. Whoever does is a lucky bastard indeed. I do, though, own Trisha. (Plus I gave names to those jerk orderlies who were trying to give Warren a shot of the Cure.)**

**NOW. I know that in the comics, Warren had a mother and blah blah blah. I know all about his past and all in that. However, this is movie based. And the movies never mentioned Warren's mom, just his dad. So, I give you Trisha Worthington, Warren's mother. :D Get excited! Anyway, the first part is basically just a little insight of before the wings started to grow. And then the second part was based on the scene in the beginning of the movie where little Warren (to me he looked about 10, 11-ish) tried to cut off the wings when they started growing.**

**Hope you enjoy it! ^^**

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><p>"Mother. Mother, it's itching again."<p>

Trisha Worthington looked down at her son, Warren Worthington III (the name was all his father's doing), and cast pitying eyes on him. The little curly-headed blonde was squirming in his seat, twisting like mad. He raised a hand and reached behind him down his back, trying to scratch at what they had discovered to be the beginning of a mutation. They had no idea what it was; just that it was still developing and that it caused him such discomfort.

When he found he couldn't reach it, he threw both arms around himself, rubbing and scraping his short fingernails across his skin violently. The action was pulling his shirt up to reveal his skinny stomach, and there was an expression of pain etched into his delicate features. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and if she didn't do something he was going to start crying soon. "M-Mother..."

"Warren!" Her voice was stern but still carried all the gentleness of a mother who was trying to be patient with her child. Trisha reached over and grabbed his wrists, twisting her own body in the process. She met his pale, teary eyes with her own warm brown ones, and loosened her grip just a little, but didn't let go of him completely. "Darling, you heard what the doctors _and_ your father said. You _know_ you can't scratch at it. That might make it worse, especially since we don't even know what it is."

He sniffled, and wrapped his tiny hands around hers as much as possible. "But M-Mother, it _i-itches_..."

"I know it does, sweetheart, I know. Believe me. Do you think I like to see you this way? I'm just trying to do what's best for you, Warren. That's all I want."

"I know, Mother. It's just so bad..." He squirmed again. "Wh-When do you suppose Father is going to be done talking to Dr. Cho and Dr. Parker?"

"I don't know, honey. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" she asked quietly, letting go of his hands.

He ran an arm over his eyes, sniffling again. "Will you rub my back? Sometimes that helps."

"Anything you say, sweetheart." She placed her newly-manicured hand gently on his back, and began to caress up and down lightly. She leaned down and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "Is this any better?"

"A little." He leaned against her, suddenly seeming tired. "Can you do it under my shirt, please?"

"Sure." She slid her hand under his sweater and ran it up and down and in little circles, feeling the bumps caused by the progressing mutation. They felt soft, somehow... softer than his skin even. She managed not to yank her hand away, though she was frightened by the touch. It wasn't because she was terrified of him. How could she be terrifed of her son? She _was_ terrified... but not for that reason. Suppose it was a mutation that became apparent? He might have such a hard time getting people to trust him, and also trusting others himself. What things might people say to him? She didn't want him coming home after school and telling her what awful things the children had said to him. She hated it when he cried.

"Mother..." Warren snuggled up closer against her, burying his face and hiding his tears within the familiarity and security of her chest. He wrapped an arm around her in a makeshift hug, his small hand clutching the fabric of her own sweater. He'd done this when he was younger too, though for different reasons than this. "It hurts, it hurts, and it itches... oh, it's so _bad_..."

Her free arm draped around his shoulders and pulled him closer, as she continued to rub his back. "I know. I wish I knew how to stop it from hurting you."

He'd started to sob again, and she could feel saline dripping onto the front of her shirt as it began to escape from his eyes. "I-I wish you did too, Mother."

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><p>Trisha hurried down the hall, nearly tripping over her own high heels. She ducked her head into the medical lab, where she was faced with the Asian doctor, a woman, and the taller male doctor. "Dr. Cho, Dr. Parker! Have either of you seen Warren around?"<p>

"Which one?" Dr. Cho, the woman, asked, not looking up from the centrifuge she was working with.

Trisha felt her eye twitched. "The one who's _this_ tall," she replied, holding up her hand to approximately Warren's height of four foot one.

"Haven't seen him."

"Thanks anyway." Trisha pulled herself out of the room and dashed back into the hallway... very nearly running into her husband.

"Trish." His voice held a dark undertone. "Watch where you're going."

"Oh thank God!" She looked after him as he simply walked in the other direction. "Have you seen Warren?"

"Bathroom just down the hall. By the way, darling, would you happen to know where he would have gotten a knife?"

"_A knife_?" Not wasting time to answer her husband's question, Trisha ran down the hall, her heels clacking on the tile floor and echoing just about as loudly as her own heart. "Oh my God, Warren!"

She nearly fell as she shoved the bathroom door open. "Warren!"

She saw her son hunched over the sink, supporting himself on it, and sobbing raspily. She saw tears plop down onto the sink beneath his face, and his hands were pressed to each side of his head, forming fists. There was a slightly bloody knife on the sink counter, and all over the floor... _all_ over the floor... small, pearly white, downy feathers littered the tile.

Trisha immediately felt her heart drop down into her stomach, and she couldn't stop the tears from flowing down her own face as well. "_Warren_!" She half ran, half slid over, landing on her knees and catching him in a hug. "Oh God! Oh, Warren, my baby!"

Warren retreated to the safety of his mother's breastbone, pressing his face into her neck and soaking her with tears. "M-Mother! So... Something started growing back there! I-I couldn't... I couldn't let it..." He wailed into the space between her neck and shoulder, broken screams ripping from his throat. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mother, I'm sorry!"

She held him tight, never wanting to let him go. She lifted her head and glanced over into the mirror. Indeed something was growing on his back, from the ridged bumps that Dr. Cho and Dr. Parker had suspected were the starts of a mutation; it looked as though their prediction was coming true. There was blood running down his back, dripping onto the floor. The sight finished the job of breaking her heart in half.

"W-Wings, Mother," Warren choked out, the sobs starting to catch in his throat as he gripped her tighter. "I'm g-growing _wings_!" He shrieked louder, not even using words. "_I don't want to be a bird_!"

"Warren. W-Warren... baby, calm down. Please, please calm down." She carefully pried him away from her, grabbed a fistful of paper towels, and ran them under the water. "Turn around."

He did as she said, and he hid his face in his hands, as though he were ashamed of what he'd done.

Trisha lightly brushed the paper towel over the beginnings of the wings and down his back to clean the blood. "Warren, I know you're scared. And I know it hurts." She was trying not to let her own pain or uncertainty creep into her voice. Warren was the kind of child who mimicked whatever emotion his parents were displaying. If he knew she was worried, he'd be even more afraid.

A thick sniffle came from the other side of her son. "I was just t-trying to make it st-stop..."

"I know, Warren. But it's going to happen whether you like it or not, and I'm sorry it causes you pain. You just... you have to know that... this is _not_ the way to go about trying to make the pain stop." She cleaned off his legs and then turned him around. She grabbed a new paper towel and pressed it to his cheeks, wiping off the tears even though more quickly followed. "All we can do is what Dr. Cho and Dr. Parker have told us."

"B-But they don't know what's happening! They don't know about the... w..._wings_."

"Then we'll tell them, and they'll give us advice." She threw the paper towels away and threw her arms around him, clutching him tightly and feeling the budding wings against her forearms. As the wife of an industrialist, she didn't get to openly display affection and concern toward her son. They both had to remain always stoic in her husband's presence.

She still didn't regret anything, but she cherished moments like this. He wasn't going to be a child forever, after all. He had to grow up someday. She wished he could grow up normal, but it didn't look like that was going to happen.

"M-Mother..." He wrapped his arms around her slowly, shaking, as if he was weak. She could feel him crying against her, and it was the worst feeling in the world. "I-I'm sorry, I'm s-so s-sorry..."

She stood up, gathering him into her arms. He wasn't five anymore, and he'd certainly gotten heavier. But she didn't care right now. "Shh, shh, it's going to be alright. It's all going to be okay."

She began to walk out of the bathroom with him. He shuddered in her arms, clinging to her by instinct and by choice. She chose to not ignore the stares they received, but to shamelessly glare right back. Nobody was going to treat her son like a freak if she could help it.

They reached his room, finally, and she opened the door. She was reluctant to leave now, and instead just sat down on the bed with him. She stroked his hair, ran her fingers over the developing wings, then let out a pained chuckle and laid a soft kiss on the side of his forehead.

"And when the wings do grow, Warren, you're _not_ going to be a bird. You're going to be my angel."

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><p><strong>D'AWWW. So sappy. I love it. XD<strong>

**Reviews is love, so drop one if you read it! ^^**


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